The Night of broken Souls
by Neiroel
Summary: After Gil-Galad died, Glorfindel is wounded and Elrond tries to save him but he has to pay a terrible price. What can save the Half-elf and the fate of Middle earth?


A/N: Thanks, **Morwen80** for beta-reading this story.

I wrote this in February but forgot it and found this yesterday between my other fanfics. I hope you enjoy reading it!

Please review and tell me what you think, a simple 'I liked it' makes my day.

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The night of broken souls

He should have known it would happen. He should have been prepared but he wasn't.

Gil-galad, High-king of the elves, king of the Noldor, his leader, his best friend, his father was dead.

Many had died in the war but as he thought that everything was over and the war was won, Sauron made his last move and burnt the High king to ash.

Shortly after that Sauron perished but Elrond felt no joy. He led Isildur, who had the One ring, to the heart of Mount Doom to destroy it, but no matter how much he tried to convince Isildur to do it, he didn't. Isildur pushed Elrond aside, crashed a few of his ribs in the process and Elrond nearly fell into the fire himself.

But all these physical wounds didn't matter to him, he didn't even feel them.

Elrond knelt before the corpse of Gil-galad. His skin was burnt; he could see his bones and flesh. It was a horrible sight.

Elrond hung his head in despair, he was a failure. He failed to protect his king, he was a depraved friend, he was a bad leader for he didn't offer his people comfort in such bad times, he failed his patients who were waiting for a healer to ease their pain.

He got up and went to the tents where the wounded lay.

In the tent was silence. The man had a terrible gash on his stomach and had lost a lot of blood. He used his healing powers to make sure the man would survive.

The day passed and the evening went by. As the night fell, Elrond was exhausted; he spent nearly all of his healing powers and energy to save lives. Only one tent was over, healers came in and out with desperate expressions it was clear that the patient in it hadn't got a great chance of survival.

He went into the tent and was terrified to see Glorfindel lying in it. He went to him to check his pulse; it was very weak but steady. Then he checked on the wound, it was an ugly stab wound in the abdomen and just the stab wouldn't have rendered him so helpless. There had to be something he missed. As he looked again, he saw the unmistakable clues which indicated that the wound was poisoned. Elrond smelled the wound. He knew the poison, it wouldn't kill fast so he had plenty of time to search for an antidote but the effects of the poison would be very painful. Luckily Elrond had spotted the herb which would work as an antidote earlier in the forest so would just have to find it again.

He walked out and smiled tiredly at the concerned healers, as they looked at him questioningly, he said:

"Glorfindel is going to live. I know an antidote against the poison and the herb I need is in the forest. I saw it earlier. Don't worry I'll get it now and everything will be fine."

The healers nodded and went back to help others.

Elrond went into the forest and searched for the herb, he had seen it before, he had to find it. After another five minutes of desperate searching, Elrond found it and went to the camp to heal Glorfindel.

As he reached the end of the forest, an Orc crept up on him and attacked Elrond. Elrond blocked the blow and kicked the Orc in the chest but it easily dodged and tried to stab Elrond with his filthy sword.

Elrond, who had no weapon, made a quick sidestep and the knife just made a long scratch on his side but the Orc was not irritated by this, he was one of the few remaining higher trained Orcs.

They were more intelligent; therefore better in fighting and stronger than normal Orcs.

Elrond, though he was keeping up the fight and tried to defeat the Orc, knew that soon he would not have enough strength left to defeat the Orc.

He knew if he wanted to defeat the Orc, he had to do it soon.

As Elrond's mind was occupied with thinking of a strategy, the Orc already had one and attacked Elrond again.

His dirty blade found its way into Elrond's chest. Elrond gasped in shock, he looked at the dirty sword embedded deeply in his chest. But he didn't feel the pain yet.

Elrond used this chance to pull the sword out of his chest and plunge it deep into the Orc's heart.

Then came the pain. It was a white, hot, agonizing pain and Elrond could do nothing but to lie on the ground and to scream in pain, hoping someone would hear him and come to his aid.

But no one came.

Elrond breathed deeply. He tried to control the pain and to get to the camp; to the tent were Glorfindel lay, to help at least him. He took the herbs in one hand and tried to stop or at least slow the blood flow with his other one. He pressed hard on the wound wincing at the pain but he didn't have another choice.

The way back was extremely painful for Elrond and as he reached the borders of the camp, he knew nearly everything was lost for him. But he didn't want to fail Glorfindel too, his best friend, he had to save Glorfindel.

Four meters until he reached Glorfindel's tent. He stood up, raising slowly but constantly. He didn't want to appear weak in his last moments and especially not in front of Glorfindel, whom he'd give the ring of air. It needed another keeper and because Elrond was dying, he had to decide, who would have to keep it.

He went into the tent, it was dark in there and much to his dismay, Glorfindel was awake and seemed to be alright.

As he approached Glorfindel, the golden haired elf said:

"Hello Elrond. I was wondering when you'd come. I am alright now but the healers say that the poison in my system will soon take over and I have to expect much pain. They also told me you were looking for an antidote, did you find one?"

Elrond nodded and said:

"I have. Now lie down, I need to apply these herbs on your wound and you'll be better very soon."

Glorfindel laid down obediently and winced slightly as Elrond removed the bandage and laid the herbs on the wound.

"It will burn slightly at first but will stop soon. If it stops, the antidote has taken effect. I will leave you now, I suggest you to sleep now, it will certainly be the best for you."

Elrond said. Glorfindel nodded and closed his eyes. Elrond got up but fell to the ground again with a cry of pain. Glorfindel immediately got up to see Elrond lying on the ground, holding his chest and crying out in pain. He removed Elrond's hands from his chest and then he saw the deep wound. He was terrified by the amount of blood on his clothing and now on the floor. He yelled for a healer and soon two came running in and were shocked to see their best healer lying on the floor in a puddle of his own blood.

They tried all they could, fed him a calming and pain killing tea but Elrond did not wake and was terribly pale. His chances for survival were very small.

Having done all they could do for Elrond, the healers left the tent quietly and left a grieving Glorfindel at his friend's side.

~4 days later~

A small group of four healers, Glorfindel, Erestor and Elrond made their way to Lothlorien. Elrond still hadn't woken and he didn't seem to wake up anytime soon. Lady Galadriel was their only hope. She was, apart from Elrond, the best healer in Middle earth and if anyone could save Elrond it was her.

They were surprised that Elrond was still alive, he had saved many souls after the battle and deserved a chance for life but he seemed devastated after the battle. Elrond was a kind soul and was always willing to help those in need but as good as these attributes were they were just as bad. He always ended up wounded, hurt or exhausted. This was how life treated those who wanted to help, it runs away and the heroes die. A hero is only a hero when he has done a sacrifice to archive something. Elrond sacrificed his life to save those, who were wounded.

Not a single elf under Elrond's care had died after the battle, of course, he had an advantage with his healing powers but he freely gave strength and healing to everyone in need.

Not more than thirty elves had succumbed to their wounds after the battle, and now Elrond would follow them into Mandos' Halls.

Life was not fair.

Maybe Galadriel could help but Glorfindel, who never gave up and lost faith in something, began to lose hope for Elrond's survival. Galadriel was a powerful woman but could her powers bring Elrond back to health? Normally true, honest and unconditional love could do something like that. Was Galadriel really that powerful? If he'd just knew more about Elrond, was he in love with someone? If yes, could that someone save Elrond from the brink of death?

So many questions flew through Glorfindel's mind as they rode towards Lothlorien.

He glanced again at Elrond, the half elf had become terribly pale and thin, the healers managed to feed Elrond some food, but it just was not enough. They barely managed to feed him the healing broth every day.

~*~Elrond POV~*~

Elrond was lost in fevered dreams. The picture of Gil-galad being burnt to death by Sauron was appearing over and over before his eyes and again he was unable to save his best friend. Although he was just in front of him, an army of thousands of Orcs were between him and his king, he was unable to reach through their ranks, but they didn't kill him either. They left him alive an unharmed to watch friends, students, lovers, young and old, royalty or farmers, burn and die.

Then suddenly a white light breached through his dark dreams and a beautiful young elf maid came towards him. He suddenly recognized who it was: Celebrian, the young daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel, the one whom he secretly loved but he couldn't hope that his pure love he held for her could ever be returned.

Tbc


End file.
